Madame Norma.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

It is six months today that Madame finally took total control over me. Before that, I was a regular "client" of hers for several years.

My interest in BDSM, and enforced chastity in particular, goes back a lot further. Years ago, I bought a "SheMale" chastity belt from Neosteel, a company in Germany. It held my penis in a tube behind a plain front shield, out of both sight and touch. It was very secure, beautifully made and cost me a bomb! I didn't have anyone to hold my keys then but I just loved to wear it, often for days on end. I cannot explain it, but I found the frustration of having one's cock locked away and inaccessible was truly delightful.

Later, a contact on the internet introduced me to Madame Norma who lived in an old house with a large cellar. Superficially the cellar looked like a well equipped gymnasium. It was only on much closer inspection that it could be seen that the equipment was designed to serve a purpose very different from that of physical health and exercise. Actually, it was the dungeon in which Madame entertained her clients. Norma had been a qualified nurse but clearly found her new occupation as a professional domme more remunerative! Her knowledge of medicine and human anatomy also came in useful.

Right from my first visit, I came under her spell and wanted nothing more than to submit to her. Over time, she must have had me one every piece of kit but her routine was always to lock a blind hood over my head so that I could often not tell exactly which torture I was subjected to. I was always stripped naked except for my chastity belt which seemed to fascinate Norma, because she would tug it to make sure it was securely locked on and then pat the front shield.

Her favourite choice of kit for me was a hoist. I would be made to step onto a small platform and raise my arms. She would slip ropes over each wrist and wind up the hoist until I was made to stand on tiptoe. She would gently tickle my nipples, which have always been sensitive and send immediate messages to my penis which would grow until I felt that it would almost burst the penis tube of the chastity belt. The pressure in the tube made it impossible for me to cum and I was held on edge at Mistress's pleasure. She would usually end the session by kicking the platform away so that I dropped until I was just held by the wrists. Being blind and helpless, the drop may only have been a few inches but it felt more like six feet!

One day, she said "Where do you keep the keys?"

"At home, hidden away where they a relatively inaccessible."

"You must bring them with you on your next visit." I knew Norma well enough by now to know that this was a command, not just a request and on my next visit, she merely held out her hand without saying anything. I meekly handed them over. All next week, I was in a constant state of excitement with the knowledge that, for the very first time, I no longer had any means of release from the belt.

I went to see Mistress Norma once a week and sometimes she would release the belt after making sure I was securely tied up, give me a brief wash and replace it. She never gave me release by allowing me to cum.

After a few weeks, when I was in the hoist, she was teasing my nipples and said "I can give you something which will make these even more sensitive. Would you like that?"

As I was enjoying her attention and the sensations she was causing, I answered without hesitation "Oh! Yes, Please, Mistress!"

She left me alone for a few moments and when she returned I felt a needle go into my thigh. I asked her what had been injected but she simply replied "What's good for you and what you need."

Every week she repeated the injection. I had odd feelings at times but not knowing what she was doing, I couldn't make them out. I didn't feel ill, just different and couldn't explain how I felt, even to myself. I did feel my nipples grow more sensitive, just as Mistress had said and one day she looked carefully at my nipples and said

"These are starting to grow nicely. Now you are on your way, I want you to wear more suitable things. You can't use your cock any more and you have to sit to urinate like a girl, so you must start to wear panties instead of those ugly Y fronts. And you won't be needing the flies on your trousers either."

Curious, I asked her again what she had been giving me.

"O.K I'll tell you now that they are bearing fruit. It is a potent mixture of female hormones and an inhibitor to stop you producing testosterone. It also acts as a chemical castration. You have probably reached the point of no return." I had been very slow to guess what the injections were, but now the realisation of what was happening to me really hit home. And I could now do nothing about it.

"Do you do this to all your "clients"?"

"No. Only once before and it worked well. James became Sylvia and Sylvia and I became passionate lovers. She made a very beautiful girl but sadly, she was killed in a car crash last year. I was shattered and determined then to try to create someone to take her place."

So that was to be my destiny!

When we had finished our session, instead of returning my usual clothes, she handed me a packet of cotton briefs and a pair of ladies pull-on cord slacks. "Make sure you wear these from now on."

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And so, just six months on, I am sitting at my computer writing this journal, wondering whether I am male or female. I am wearing an ordinary (man's) shirt, but girl's panties and slacks. My breasts are only just starting to develop but I have noticed that my skin and hair is a little softer and I have put on weight around my hips. At any casual glance, I am male. My friends may have noticed some changes but maybe they are too polite to comment. Strangers may think I am a bit effeminate. But I speak with a deep voice and no one is likely to notice that my trousers have no flies.

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But what does my future hold? I AM GOING TO BE A GIRL!! It was not something that had ever crossed my mind until a few weeks ago but now I'm very excited at the prospect. As Mistress said, I am at the point of no return. Do I want to return? No, I am too much under Mistress's influence to cast adrift now and anyway I would need medical help to try to reverse the effect of all the drugs.

I'm fed up with being neither male or female, boy or girl, man or woman. I now know I want to make the final transition. I want my breasts to grow. I want to wear a frilly blouse and a bra which is just visible under it. And a skirt. And a curvy figure. And I want to have nicely styled hair and a nice complexion so that my makeup will look genuine. And above all, I want the freedom to wear nice girlie clothes whenever and wherever I want.

Mistress has promised to look after me. I've always adored her, and I am now to be her lesbian lover.

And what of my chastity belt? Mistress says I must still wear it "because girls don't have cocks" and she has the keys. Otherwise she will arrange to have it amputated. She always was a sadist!

Life will be different and I'm going to enjoy it.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.

February 2010

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